


Don’t Worry About Me (Though I Know You Will)

by MurdockSchmurdock



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anesthesia, Apologies, Art, Comfort, Confessions, Crying, Eavesdropping, Evil Laughter, Fake Character Death, Father-Son Relationship, Field Trip, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Happy Hogan is a Good Bro, Heavy Angst, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Making Up, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Misunderstandings, NOT STARKER - Freeform, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Tony Stark, Peter Parker Loves Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter Parker-centric, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Peter Parker, Supportive May Parker (Spider-Man), Texting, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Cuddles, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs Sleep, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark is doing his best, Tony Stark-centric, Washington D.C., Whump to come, it’s not like, that kind but it’s definitely sh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24245524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurdockSchmurdock/pseuds/MurdockSchmurdock
Summary: Or: five times Tony and Peter misunderstood each other, and one time things were perfectly clear
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark, Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 91
Kudos: 580





	1. This is a message from Verizon MSSG

**Author's Note:**

> Ohhh boy you guys, I’m so excited to finally be posting this! I’ve been sitting on it for a while, but I didn’t get that final burst of inspiration until yesterday.  
> I have about a week to get it all done, then I have to turn my computer in so let’s see how it goes!  
> Tags will be updated accordingly as the chapters are posted :)

“Tony! Five o’clock!”

He swerved to the left, narrowly avoiding a laser beam that shot past, the smell of ozone filling the air as it cut through his repulsor trail. The light cut a red hot trail up the side of the building behind him, sending chunks of concrete and molten glass to the deserted streets below. IronMan whipped around, sending a blast of his own towards his attackers. 

“Thanks, Cap, but maybe a little more of a heads up next time.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Hey, we’ve got our hands as full as you do down here,” Steve shot back, “These robot bastards aren’t going down easy!” 

“Language!” Clint piped up from wherever he was perched, earning a huff of laughter from Tony and an annoyed grunt from Steve. Tony glanced down at his teammates, who seemed to be holding up pretty well. Natasha lept gracefully from one robot to another, putting their lasers out of commision with her widow bites before Steve slammed his shield into each metal carapace, leaving Hulk to do what Hulk did best. Which, of course, is smash.

That left him and Clint to deal with any stragglers around the outside, which was not as easy as it sounds. He just hoped this would be over soon, and couldn’t help but think how much faster this would’ve gone if Rhodey or Sam had been on call. Hell, he’d have taken just about any help he could get.

As if she were reading his mind, Natasha’s voice came over the coms.

“Hey Stark, doesn’t that Spider-guy hang around here? Think we could call him for back up?” 

Tony froze for a split second, just enough time for a laser to blast dangerously close to his face, before he snapped out of it, vigorously shaking his head even if his teammates couldn’t actually see it.

“Nuh-uh. Nope. absolutely not,” He growled, blasting the offending robot to bits, “ Spider-Man is small time only, he’s not coming anywhere near this.” The thought of Spider-Man’s body lying burned and broken on the ground flashed across his mind, and he had to fight back the bile that rose up at the thought. “On second thought, I am gonna call him, but only to tell him to stay the hell away.”

“Suit yourself, Tony, but we could really use the help.” Steve sighed back. Tony bit back a snarky retort, and instead asked FRIDAY to mute the team coms and call the kid. It only rung once before Peter picked up, already rambling before the man could get a word out.

“Oh my gosh, Mr Stark, did you see what’s going on? There’s all these crazy robots on the streets and I think they’re shooting lasers, and our school’s on lockdown now since it’s like ten blocks away but I can still probably make up an excuse to get out if you need me, er, if you need Spider-Man” He half whispered into the phone. Tony cut him off quickly, wanting to get the message through fast.

“Zip it, kid. I don’t want your spider butt anywhere close to this mess,” He snapped, ignoring Peter’s protests, “and I mean it, if I so much as get a single ping from KAREN you’re grounded.” Whether he had that kind of authority or not, he wasn’t sure, but the kid’s Aunt would probably back him up on that.

Peter was beginning to sputter out an argument when a low rumble came over his end. 

“Oh, shi-” He began, before someone in the background began shouting garbled instructions.

“Wait, Pete, how close did you say you were?” Tony asked, cold fear beginning to pool in the pit of his stomach.

“About, about nine or ten blocks,” the kid’s voice said, wavering ever so slightly,    
“The teachers are watching the news and they said we should be fine but I can hear everyone panicking and also if I concentrate really hard I can sort of hear the robot things, and I think they’re getting closer, but-” Before he could finish the line cut out, leaving Tony in horrible silence. 

“FRIDAY, call the kid.” He said, trying to keep his voice even as the fear turned into panic. Nothing. He tried five times, each time being met with Peter’s voicemail. That was wrong. Peter always picked up. Always. Even when it was incredibly inconvenient of him to do so. 

The panic was now sinking it’s icy claws into him, constricting his chest and turning his breaths into ragged gasps. He flew to the ground, leaning against the building and forcing himself to control it. If he was a panicking mess, he was useless. He couldn’t help Peter if he couldn’t even breathe right. Inhaling deeply, he straightened himself and turned coms back on.

“I’ve got to go. You guys can hold your own until I get back, right?” He quipped, unable to keep the shake out of his voice.

“Stark, what’s going on? Are you hit?” Nat questioned, the sentiment quickly repeated by Steve and Clint.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I just have to, you know, cover all our bases.” Tony waved them off, hoping they would just accept it and let him go. He could come up with a better cover story later. When he knew his kid wasn’t dead. Even if they didn’t he’d go anyway. Steve sighed.

“Alright, we should be good, but only because there’s so few- shit!” the captain was cut off by a volley of lasers slicing through the air around him, a few bouncing off his shield into surrounding buildings. Hulk roared and leapt from his mangled pile of robots, swiping Natasha as he went so he could shield her and Steve with his body. 

“Scratch that Tony, we need all hands on deck right now,” Steve groaned, peeking around Hulk’s back at the new wave of bots screaming towards them, “I guess we can’t just destroy them all. Where the hell are they coming from?”

“There’s got to be some kind of signal controlling them, right? I’m pretty sure they have antennas.” Clint said, knocking another arrow. They were silent for a moment, save for the screeches of the machines and whistle of the arrows. Clearly, they were waiting for Tony to respond. But his jaw seemed to have locked as he stood where he landed, staring ahead as his teammates huddled under big green. 

Leave Peter to whatever had befallen him, and save his team, or leave his team to die and possibly save his kid? The magic-tinged visions of the Avengers laying slain usually reserved for his nightmares plastered themselves to the backs of his eyes, mingling with images of Peter, bright, intelligent eyes open and glazed over. Lifeless. 

He couldn’t breathe again, each attempted inhale hitching in his chest and he crumpled over, sagging against the brick wall he had been leaning on. If this kept up, he was going to vomit. 

“Tony!” Natasha’s yelling dragged him out of his panicked haze, “Tony, do you think you could trace the signal controlling whatever these are?” The man let out what he hoped was an affirmative noise.

“Tony, I’m not sure what’s wrong, but you’ve got to snap out of it. We need you.” Steve added, worry plain in his voice.

“Y-yeah, I’m good.” He replied shakily, hauling himself up from where he sat. A battlefield was no place for a panic attack. That’s how you get yourself killed, and he wasn’t of any help to his team or his kid dead.

“FRI, search local frequencies, if that doesn’t turn anything up, expand the radius.” The faster he fixed this, the faster he could get to Peter. 

“Already on it, boss.” the AI said, pulling up a new window on his helmet display as the procedure ran its course. FRIDAY set on her task, Tony fired up his repulsors and took to the sky, dodging and weaving around the mechanical assailants to try and ease the barrage against his teammates. With his distraction they were able to get back in the swing of things, taking out robots left and right.

“Boss, I have detected an abnormal amount of activity on this wavelength.” FRIDAY finally said. 

“Did you do a trace?” He demanded, just as a blinking red light appeared a few blocks away on the display map.

“Of course. The information has already been sent to the team.” FRIDAY clipped, sounding a bit miffed at his short tone. 

“Thanks FRI, I knew I could count on you.” Tony sighed.

“You are welcome, sir.” 

“Alright Cap, I’m assuming you got the location?” He said, watching as the man checked with Natasha below.

“Old office building, four blocks that way?” Steve responded, swiping through the information floating above his watch as he waited for Tony’s confirmation, “Sure did, we’re leaving Hulk on root duty and heading that way now.”

“See you there.” Tony replied, blasting down the street before the soldier or assassin could stop him.   
As he neared it, he prepared for the waves of buggish robots to become near unbearable, but to his surprise, the onslaught slowed the closer he got.

“FRI, can you see if there’s anything in there?”

“I’m detecting one heat signature on the twenty-third floor, it matches with the source of the signal. Otherwise the structure is empty.” She replied, and his helmet's thermal camera showed a single man crouched low behind… something. Not wasting a second Tony slammed through a window, sending shards of shattered glass everywhere. 

The first thing he noticed was the haphazard computer set-up in the middle of the room, which essentially amounted to multiple monitors hooked up to various other machines, thrown together quite randomly on folding tables and cardboard boxes. The second thing was the signature Stark Industries logo on a few of the devices, along with the slightly less noticeable Oscorp logo on others. The third and final thing he noticed was the nervous looking man peeking around the side of the contraption.

They locked eyes, and Tony advanced towards him, causing the guy to scramble backwards with a yelp.

“Who. The  _ hell.  _ Are you?” He growled, watching with a tiny spark of satisfaction as the snivelling man’s chin wobbled at his furious tone. The man sputtered for a moment, eyes darting around as he looked for an escape. As if he could.

“ANSWER ME!” Tony roared, taking another step forward. 

“Phineas Mason!” The guy shrieked, shielding his face with his arms.

“Well, Phineas Mason, you wanna tell me exactly why there’s a bunch of robot bugs terrorizing New York? And why you’re hiding out in this abandoned building, controlling them? This was supposed to be my day off you know.”

“I, uh, I-I just, wanted, wanted to uh,” Mason babbled, before inhaling and composing himself, “Well, I didn’t think the damn Avengers would get called over this! I really thought it would just be, uh, Spider-Man.” 

“What do you want with Spider-Man?” Tony seethed, panic beginning to bubble back up to the surface.

“Nothing! Nothing at all! I just uh, didn’t, uh.” Mason squeaked. Tony advanced again, and Phineas scrambled backwards until his back hit a table, upsetting a particularly unstable monitor, which fell and hit him over the head. 

“Gah! Shit!” Phineas screeched, holding his hand over the fresh cut, blood already beginning to seep through his fingers. 

“I’ll ask you one more time,” the whine of his repulsors cut through the man’s whimpers, “and you’re gonna tell me why you’re after Spider-Man,” Tony held his palm out toward Phineas’s head, “or I’m gonna make this hurt a whole lot more than it needs to.”

Phineas fainted. Grunting with frustration, Tony blasted the table near the man’s crumpled body. He didn’t see so much as a flinch, and FRIDAY confirmed he was in fact unconscious. Well shit.

“Might as well do a background check on this guy, FRI.” He sighed.

“Phineas Mason. Aged 43, He began working at Oscorp about a year ago as an engineer, then a tech in the electronic waste department. He was fired for workplace theft a month ago. No record exists for employment for eight years prior, but before that, he worked with a private contractor, Bestman Salvage, for clean-up and construction services.”

“BestMan Salvage...hm, sounds familiar. Can you pull anything else up on that?” Tony asked, wanting nothing more than to get out of there, but leaving a potentially volatile criminal alone, unconscious or not was generally frowned upon.

“Boss, you’re not gonna like this.” FRIDAY spoke up, a hint of nervousness present in her artificial voice.

“I already don’t like any of this, what’s a little more?” He grumbled.

“BestMan salvage was a private company that was shut down shortly after the battle of New York by Damage Control. It was owned by Adrian Toomes.”

Steve and Natasha burst through the stairwell doors just in time to see Tony stumble backwards. His faceplate flipped out and he gulped in a breath of the stale office air. A strong gloved hand gripped his shoulder, and Steve was in front of him, blue eyes piercing his own.

“Tony? What’d you do?” The super-soldier’s voice was as laced with concern as his eyes. When Tony didn’t answer, his gaze darted over to the unconscious man slumped by the computers.

“Or rather, what did he do?” He finished, releasing his hold on Stark’s shoulder as he regained his composure.

“H-he worked for Toomes. Adrian Toomes,” Tony choked out, groaning at his teammate’s confused looks, “The Vulture. Weapons dealer. Spider-Man took him down, god, that’d be almost a year ago, now, put him in prison... but Toomes knew who he was, and, and Phineas was after the kid, after Spider-Man.” 

When he looked up Natasha and Steve shared twin looks of alarm.

“When I tried to call him, he said, he said,” The man gasped again, suddenly feeling too restricted in his alloyed armor, “Damn it, he said they were getting closer.”

Before either of the others could respond, Clint’s voice cut in, static fizzing through his words.

“Uh, guys? You got that source on lock? Big Green’s still having fun but these bots are gonna wear him out eventually.”

Tony straightened, sealing his helmet and striding over to a still-blinking panel. The harsh whine of his repulsors filled the room, and with a flick of his wrists a blazing beam bisected the remaining monitors. A slam of his metal fist crumpled the metal panel, sending sparks flying as the lights shut out.

“Problem solved, bird-brain.”

“Dang! Whatever you did worked, they’re dropping like flies!” Clint shouted after a beat. Hulk’s victorious roar crackled faintly in the background. Cap released a breath at that, uncinching his helmet and running a gloved hand through his sweaty hair.

“Shield’s gonna want a full report.” He said, glancing at Tony. The man stiffened, fixing him with the cold gaze of the Iron Man helmet.

“Not a chance in hell, Rogers. I’m going after my kid.” He growled, turning on his heel and made a running leap back out the window he entered through. As his feet left the ground his thrusters activated, carrying him at breakneck speeds through the city.

In his wake he left Steve and Nat, who looked at each other and then Phineas in confusion.

“So, what do we do with him?” Natasha asked.

“His kid?” puzzled Steve.

“No, the perp, Cap.” She sighed, already pulling a pair of cuffs from her belt.

“Just restrain him and log it. But, Nat, he said  _ his  _ kid.” He reiterated. She could just roll her eyes. Tony had plenty of secrets, it would be no surprise if his connection to the vigilante was another.

Tony shot down the streets as fast as his suit could take him. He only stopped once, to bring a frightened older woman to the appropriate level of her apartment. Peter would want him to. Despite his haste, the twenty minute flight felt more like an hour. He was aware of the Captain issuing the all clear, aware of the activity slowly returnign to this area of New York. And he was incredibly, horribly aware of his own heart seeming to beat out of his chest with each second Peter hadn’t returned his calls, each second that he couldn’t see him alive.

Finally, he rounded the last corner and Midtown School of Science and Technology came into view. Just that fact that it wasn’t half-destroyed and swarming with the corpses of deactivated bug robots eased the weight of his pending anxiety attack enough to leave him lightheaded. Students had already begun pouring out of the front doors, reuniting with their harried parents after what was surely a hell of a day. 

Tony landed among the throng, ignoring the “ooh’s” and “aah’s” that accompanied the sudden appearance of IronMan. He ignored them all, sweeping his gaze over the mass of heads.There was only one kid he cared about right then, and he didn’t even have eyes on him. For a terrifying second, he thought that maybe Peter wasn’t there at all, having swung off somewhere to get himself hurt. Or worse.

“Boss, on your left.” FRIDAY spoke up. He whipped around just in time to see a familiar mop of curly brown hair leaping down the front steps, accompanied by an excitedly jabbering kid in a striped polo and a disinterested looking girl. Peter was laughing and nodding along, his smile alone seeming to brighten the schoolyard more than the midday sun. 

Without a word FRIDAY had opened the suit, and he stumbled out, hoping his jelly legs wouldn’t give out under him. 

“Kid,” Tony croaked out, before finding his voice and shouting, “Peter!”

Peter faced him, brown eyes widening in surprise and relief.

“Mr Stark! How, uh, why are you-oof!” He was cut off by Tony’s embrace, pulling the kid tight enough to lift him off the ground.

“Shit, Pete, you really scared the hell out of me there.” He rasped, refusing to release his kid despite the curious onlookers. And Ted standing there sputtering. Peter let out a shaky laugh, burying his face in his mentor’s chest, seemingly unperturbed by his surroundings. 

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t any easier watching you out fighting while I was stuck here,” He said, then paused and looked up at Tony, a quizzical look on his face, “Wait, why were you scared? Other than the like, robot things.”

His mentor frowned down at him.

“Kid, usually when people’s calls are suddenly cut off, and then they don’t respond to any of the twenty messages you leave them, something bad has happened. Especially when that someone is a self-sacrificing idiot genius, in the middle of a robot attack,” At his words, Peter flushed, “ And as much as I want to, I don’t really trust you not to get yourself killed. Which, god, I was so worried you did.”

“Oh, yeah, about that,” He mumbled sheepishly, “I, uh, kinda ran out of data.”

Tony blinked and relinquished his grasp on the teen. One hand stayed firmly on his shoulder as the other went up to rub tiredly at his forehead. Peter was gonna be the death of him, he knew it.

“What do you mean, out of data?” His tone bordered on annoyed, and Peter shifted awkwardly as he answered.

“Well, me and May are on this like, shared plan, which helps keep expenses down but we don’t get a lot of it. The internet went down in our apartment yesterday, so May had to use a bit of it for work stuff, and I used some to talk to Ned, but today there was barely any left. Midtown doesn’t have a student server so between watching the news and calling you and May, it got shut off.” He shrugged, babbling under his Mentor’s gaze.

“Kid you do realize that I can put both of you on the best data plan in the nation without it costing you a dime, right? Why didn’t you say anything?” 

If it was possible, Peter turned even more red, vigorously shaking his head at the man’s offer.

“What? No way! I-I can’t, I can’t ask you to do that!” he squawked. Tony expected this resistance, Peter never seemed to want anything that he considered “extra”.

“Good, because you’re not asking, I’m just doing it. What are you doing with this hunk of junk anyway? While I’m at it, you’re getting a Starkphone. I should probably upgrade the internet at your place.”

“Mr.Stark please, you don’t need to-” Peter was cut off by Tony’s tutting.

“Buh-uh-uh, nope, I don’t need to, but I want to. If it’s really that unbearable for you to consider that you can have things that aren’t necessities, think of it this way; If it came down to it, me not being able to contact you, whether that’s for your… extracurriculars or your internships, is unacceptable. It’s as much for my ease of mind as your convenience.” He finished, and the kid seemed to relax.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” he breathed, looking up at him gratefully, “thank you, Mr Stark.”

Tony couldn’t help but smile fondly at him.

“Sure thing, Pete.”


	2. D.C part 2 electric boogaloo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #2: yet another Midtown Field Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao I actually had this done and ready to post last night but I ended going crazy ahh stupid ahh and wrote pretty much the entire rest of this fic in one sitting 😬

Tony was gonna kill him, Peter thought.

He stood around the empty lockers with his classmates, some staring as blankly as him, many talking angrily amongst themselves, and a few were quietly crying. Mr Harrington was a few yards away, talking in hushed tones with an officer. Of course, he could hear it loud and clear, but from the sound of it the Police had as little of an idea of who had stolen half the class's belongings as they did. 

He didn’t have a good record with field trips, between multiple minor mishaps when he was younger, Oscorp last spring, and the Decathlon Trip From Hell. Despite all that, a part of him really hoped he could have just one good, quiet, normal trip. So when Midtown announced that an anonymous donor (Well, he had a pretty good idea who it was) had just funded a Sophomore trip to DC, he jumped on it. Surprisingly enough, so did a lot of his decathlon peers. Though to be fair, they had certainly missed out on a lot of the actually fun stuff last time.

Of course, once he told his Aunt and Mr. Stark, they made sure to lay down a few ground rules. Like, he was absolutely, under no circumstances allowed to cause trouble. Trouble, naturally, including anything Spider-Man related, like sneaking out, fighting crime, or general tom foolery. Not that Peter had any problem with that, he didn’t even bring the suit with him. They also requested that he keep in contact with them, at least a little. Also not a problem. 

Lastly, Mr. Stark gifted him a brand new Starkphone, as promised, and surprised him with a new pair of shoes. He did so under the guise of preventing Peter from absolutely destroying his feet walking in his ratty old converse, but he was pretty sure he just got them for him because they were IronMan themed. He was also pretty sure they had a tracker in them. But hey, they were definitely comfy, and Peter would be lying if he said he didn’t like having a bit of his mentor with him, cheesy as it was.

But it clearly wasn’t meant to be. 

They had been there for one day. It was great! They arrived in the early afternoon, and spent the remaining daylight wandering around the streets by the hotel, checking out all the little souvenir shops and cafes . The first full day was packed with Smithsonian tours. Natural History, Air and Space, American History, National Zoo, they saw it all. He spent the whole time with Ned and MJ, and Flash left them alone for the most part.

And it was perfect, up until the Segway tour. The students of Midtown piled onto the bus, excited chatter filling the air as they were shuttled from the hotel to the National Mall. Peter was more than happy to join in, even if he had to turn all the way around in his seat just to keep MJ in he and Ned’s conversation. Not that he minded. Even when he got yelled at by Mr. Dell like, six times.

Their bus arrived at the squat little building that served as an office and storage facility for the tour company. A peppy guide with spiky hair directed to the supposedly secure row of lockers, and shortly after depositing their belongings she was ushering them off for their segway lessons. By the time they had finished their ride around the monuments, not so subtly avoiding the Washington Monument, the small office had been ransacked.

Of course he had to leave his bag there. Along with his phone and watch. He even left his new shoes. What, he didn’t want them to get messed up! Sure, flash had made a couple comments about them but it wasn’t about that. And now he had no way to contact May or Mr. Stark, who would no doubt be furious that he lost his gifts.

Ned patted his shoulder consolingly and MJ refrained from teasing him as Peter fretted, running his hands down his sweaty face. It was easy to be the voice of reason when they hadn’t lost anything. Being the relatively responsible boy he was, Ned had left all of his belongings in the hotel, including his phone and wallet. That said, he couldn’t buy any water and was as red and sweaty as Peter. MJ, being the actually responsible one of the group, simply brought her phone and debit card in her pocket. She was able to buy water, and was probably the only reason her friends didn’t get heatstroke.

Soon enough, the teachers were herding them back onto the air-conditioned bus. This time around, the chatter was far more subdued, the jovial spirits of the students flattened as they headed back to the hotel to contact their parents, and wait for more news.

* * *

He was going to kill Peter, Tony thought.

He had been having a perfectly good night before FRIDAY’S alarm started blaring. Grumbling, Tony rolled out of bed, hushing Pepper when she stirred beside him.

“Ony? Whats goin on?” She yawned, reaching out for his arm but getting his still-warm pillow instead. He smiled at his fiance, reaching down to press a kiss to her cheek.

“Don’t worry about it, Pep, just a little hiccup with the alarm system.” He murmured. She sighed in response, promptly falling back asleep. Tony exited the room as quietly as he could, stumbling groggily out into the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine. It’s not like he was going back to sleep.

“FRI? What’s the big deal? I didn’t think I programmed a “Wake up Tony for no reason” protocol.” 

“Sir, per your “Goody Two-Shoes Protocol”, I was ordered to alert you should Peter’s tracker activate past the specified lights-out time on his trip itinerary.” She replied. Tony groaned and ran his hands through his tangled hair. Something he found himself doing more and more frequently.

“And what time is it?”

“Approximately 1:18 am, Boss.”

The coffee machine dinged, and Tony quickly swiped the pot off it’s base, pouring it into his regular mug. It read “ World’s most adequate Dad”, but with the Dad crossed off and Mentor with a :) written beside it in red sharpie. Of course it was a gift from the kid.

“Alright, what kind of activity?” Surely the kid wouldn’t be so stupid to sneak out, right?

“The tracker in his shoes activated, and is currently located about a mile from the designated hotel. Any attempts to contact Mr. Parker have failed.” Well, maybe he was.

“You got a read on the suit?” He asked, gulping down a scorching sip of the coffee. Ugh, should have waited a bit longer.

“No sir.” the AI replied. That didn’t particularly surprise him though, if the kid felt the need to go out, he would certainly find a way to, despite his mentor’s multitude of failsafes. He didn’t think the kid even had the suit with him, but then again, he hadn’t expected him to try and sneak out of his hotel at one in the morning either.

“Get me a suit.” He growled out, already planning a million ways to ground the vigilante. No patrolling for a month. No training in the gym with him. No more after school lab- wait, no, that was just as much for him as Peter. 

It’s a damn good thing he put that tracker in those sneakers, then. Otherwise the kid would be out there doing god knows what without any kind of back-up. Sure, if he royally messed up, the “Screwed the pooch” protocol would probably go through, but that still left him an hour’s flight away from the vigilante. 

As he marched out onto the balcony, swiping the nanite housing unit from the pedestal it rose up on, Tony briefly wondered if he should shoot the kid’s Aunt a heads-up. It would only be right, considering the boatload of trouble Peter was about to be in, and the shoes were her idea in the first place. Well, the tracking bit, he had already planned on giving him the sneakers the second he got the licensing notification. Speaking of which, the kid was going to be absolutely pissed when he found out about that. 

But considering the fact that said shoes were the only reason he knew he was out three hours after curfew in a different state, Tony figured he wouldn’t really have a leg to stand on. 

Calling May turned out to be a bust, after the second voicemail he decided she was probably working the graveyard shift at the hospital. It would be best for him to deal with this on his own. Slapping the unit onto his chest, he grimaced as the nanites began to cover him. Definitely should’ve grabbed a jacket to wear over his tank top and sweatpants. Metal wasn’t exactly a good insulator, at least at first. Then his helmet formed over his head, the familiar display lighting up his view of the night.

“Good morning, Boss, I’ve already prepared your route to Washington.” FRIDAY greeted him. He smirked and powered up his thrusters, blasting off the balcony of the Tower and into the way-too-early morning sky.

“You know me so well,” He grinned, “Just make sure it’s DC, not Washington as in Washington, Washington.”

“What do you take me for, GoogleMaps?” She snarkily replied. Tony barked a laugh, and watched the buildings growing smaller as he left them behind. He had an hour to come up with a suitable lecture for the Spider-Brat.

“Say, FRI, could you download any audiobooks on disciplining a teenager?”

“Downloading Parenting 101: What to do When Your Child Begins a Rebellious Phase, by Karen Nerak.”

“What, no, not a, not a parenting book, I need a, just a, you know what- nevermind. That’ll do.” FRIDAY’s oddly human laughter made him roll his eyes as the first chapter began to play.

It was nearing 2:30 when DC came into view, 2:45 when he set down on the roof of an apartment roughly three miles from Midtown’s hotel. Directly across the street, a shadowy figure ducked into an old breezeway. According to the blinking green dot on his screen, that was Peter. 

For whatever reason, actually seeing the kid was making his blood boil. He took a second to force his anger down, as appropriate as it would be to absolutely string the kid out for this, he also didn’t want to get too into it. The memory of his reaction to the Ferry Incident made him grimace. Eyeing the screen to ensure that the kid hadn’t moved, Tony took a breath and flew down, mentally preparing himself for the shouting match to come.

He took a heavy step into the corridor, the clank of his metal boots causing Peter to freeze in his tracks. Tony couldn’t see his expression in the shadows, but he could picture the shock and fear pretty plainly.

“ Well, well, well, if it isn’t my most troublesome Intern,” He drawled, “ if I remember correctly, we had a very particular deal that should have kept your night time gallivanting restricted to, i don’t know, places that aren’t two hundred miles away.” Peter stared at him, unmoving and silent. Somehow this pissed Tony off more. 

“God, kid, I really thought we were past this,” he sighed, tapping his chest and bracing himself against the cool air, “ the whole, lying and keeping things from Tony bullshit, at least. I gotta admit, it kinda hurts. Scratch that, it really hurts, ‘cuz it seems like you don’t trust me a whole lot.” He took a step forward, and Peter dropped his bag,falling to the ground and scrambling backward like he’d been burned. Which was very unlike him. When he pulled out the whole trust spiel he sorta figured the kid would, burst into tears, or say something at the least.

“P-please don’t h-hurt me, man.” Peter whimpered, in what was definitely not Peter’s voice.

“Lights on, FRIDAY.” Tony snapped, and the soft glow from his chest brightened, revealing the face of a thirty-something year old bald dude, who seemed positively terrified at the sight of Tony Stark in his pajamas. A glance down explained everything. The guy was wearing Peter’s shoes.

“What the hell?” The guy flinched at his outburst, yelping like a wounded dog as the billionaire stormed toward him.

“I’ll give you w-whatever you want! Please j-just don’t h-hurt me!” He cried, tears beginning to roll pathetically down his face. As sorry a scene as it was, the sight of someone wearing something he gave his kid filled him with a dangerous mix of concern and rage. Tony stood over the weeping man, clenching his fists as his face contorted into a sneer.

“I want to know how you got those shoes.” He growled, the slightest twitch of his hand pulling the nanites from his chest into a gauntlet. The man gulped as the repulsor glowed.

Thirty minutes later, he was dropping the appropriately traumatized man and his bag of stolen phones and wallets off at the nearest police station, along with a few benjamins to keep it on the down-low. 

“Alright FRIDAY, let’s go home.” 

“Shall I play the rest of Parenting 101: What to do When Your Child Begins a Rebellious Phase, by Karen Nerak? You were about to begin chapter 20, Hormones and What They Mean To You.” Tony rolled his eyes.

“Sure, maybe it’ll put me to sleep.” He was in the air before Karen could begin.

* * *

Peter was roused at the horrid time of 6 AM by Mr. Harrington banging on the door of his and Ned’s room. Waking the other boy was significantly more difficult, Ned was dead to the world. His repetitive poking did nothing, and he ended up tilting the bed sideways so Ned rolled off with an “Oomph!”.

The pair made their way down to the complimentary breakfast bar, meeting up with MJ just outside. The atmosphere was much less sullen than it had been the night before, but still far from the excited energy you’d expect from a bunch of nerds on a field trip. They grabbed a few plates, chatting amiably as they found a place to sit by a window.

“So, what’d your Aunt say about you losing another backpack?” MJ asked, raising an eyebrow at his indignant expression.

“I didn’t lose it  _ like that,” _ He whined, “ and she was fine. She wasn’t mad or anything, and she said she’d let Mr. Stark know after her shift.”

“And what’s he gonna think about that?” She replied, biting into a strawberry.

“ You don’t think he’ll be mad, right Peter?” Ned piped up, noticing his downcast expression. Peter shrugged, picking at the remains of his waffle.

“ I don’t know, Ned. Maybe? I should have known better than to leave everything in those sketchy lockers.” He sighed.

“There’s no way you could have known, dude. If he gets mad about that, well, that’s on him.” MJ shot back. 

“Yeah! Plus, he can just get you a new phone anyway. He’s like, the richest guy ever.” Ned’s enthusiasm earned him a grin. MJ rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I still feel bad about the shoes though.” He shot a grateful look at Ned as he scraped the last of his bacon onto Peter’s plate. MJ looked like she was about to say something, but the clinking of a spoon on glass quickly sent a hush over the room. 

“Okay Midtown, listen up!” Mr. Harrington hollered, “ I know yesterday didn’t go exactly as planned,“ a chorus of groans echoed through the room, “ But I do have good news! I just got a call from one of the officers on the scene, and apparently, the guy turned himself in, along with all your stuff, so in a few minutes we’ll be leaving for the station to-” He was drowned out by the excited cheers of the students, which took an additional five minutes to calm down. Within the hour, they had all packed onto the bus, more than ready to get back on track.

Peter got his shoes and phone back in an evidence bag. Well, so did everyone else. He was just surprised they had those in a large enough size to fit his bookbag. Grinning, he pulled his shoes out, eager to replace his ratty converse with the far nicer sneakers, but he paused when he noticed a folded up slip of paper stuffed into the right shoe.

* * *

“Hey kid, 

Hope you’re having a good time. Don’t worry, that guy won’t be picking any more pockets for a while. Text me when you get this.

-TS”

* * *

Peter stuffed the note in his pocket, slipping the shoes on and rushing back out to the bus. Once seated besides Ned, he whipped out his phone and opened his messages.

* * *

**Some Guy**

Peter: Mr. Stark

Some Guy: yes???

Peter: How’d you know my stuff got stolen? Did you talk to Aunt May

Some Guy: No, I didn’t talk to May

Peter: ???

Some Guy: I just know things, Peter.

Some Guy: I’m Iron Man.

Peter: >:(

Some Guy: Alright, fine

Some Guy: The shoes have a tracker

Some Guy: which May knows about, btw

Some Guy: So I got an alert that you were frolicking around at 1 am, and I might’ve flown out to ground your Spider-butt and found the guy instead

Some Guy: the best part is that he was wearing the shoes

Some Guy: who does that?? Steals shoes and then wears them

Peter: :/

Some Guy: Use your words, Pete

Peter: >:(

Some Guy: >:(

Peter rolled his eyes before responding.

Peter: I kinda figured about the tracker bit

Some Guy: damn, really? Am I that predictable?

Peter: yeah. I’m also pretty sure there’s one in my phone, my watch, and basically everything else you have ever given me

Some Guy: Wow. Okay

Peter: Also a bit hurt that you didn’t trust me to go on a field trip

Some Guy: To be fair

Some Guy: In my defense

Some Guy: I was surprised. And also saved your trip.

Peter: I’ll take it

Some Guy: Now get back to your nerd trip. 

Peter: Only if you get back to your nerd job

Some Guy: watch it kid, or I’ll program Karen to RickRoll you every time you put on the suit

Peter: :O you wouldn’t

Some Guy: oh, I would. Have fun Pete.

Peter: You too Mr Stark :)

* * *

Turning off his phone, Peter dropped his head back on the seat and smiled as his teachers explained the next stop to the class. 

“Dude, who were you texting?” Ned whispered, closing his mouth as Mr. Harrington fixed him with a glare.

“Oh, Mr. Stark just wanted to see how things were going.” He shrugged, ignoring Ned’s awestruck expression.

“You text Tony Stark?” Ned gaped, “What even is your life, man.” Peter laughed and shook his head, more than happy to move on to the next topic.

“So, where did Harringotn say we’re going next?” He asked, prompting his friend to launch into a full description of the Capitol Building, MJ occasionally leaning over to interrupt with a missed fact or correction. The bus lurched forward, and Peter looked forward to the rest of his perfectly normal trip. 

Luckily, it was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it, now you have to finish the rest of your angst before you can have any more fluff, no but’s.  
> Once I finish the art for this chapter it will be up on my Instagram @murdock_schmurdock, since I can’t seem to get it to work on here lmao  
> Let me know if you enjoyed! :)


	3. Involuntary Eavesdropping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Super hearing doesn’t always make everything easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sorry

Lab Days were usually the best days. Key word, usually.

Today, however, Peter was having a hard time getting into the spirit. He almost considered asking Happy to take him home instead of the Tower, but that would worry Mr. Stark, who would worry Aunt May, who would do her best to pry what was wrong out of him. But honestly, he didn’t want to talk at all.

The night prior he had been out, swinging around, as you do, when he heard a cry for help. It was a typical mugging, but he must’ve been off his game or something because the perp was able to slam him headfirst into a wall, and get away with the lady’s purse. She then chewed him out for being ‘lazy’ until the police arrived. He got home just before curfew with a minor concussion and woke up with a major headache, that quickly turned into a constant assault on all his senses. Just what he needed. 

The sensory overload wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, but still unwelcome, and Flash’s insistence on harassing him over every little thing only worsened it. Ned was out sick, and he only had one class with MJ apart from lunch, so he mostly just suffered in silence. By the time the last bell rang and he was crawling into Happy’s backseat, Peter wanted nothing more than to pass out then and there.

But he didn’t. Head swirling with pain and some more negative than usual thoughts, he trudged his way into his mentor’s workshop, slinging his book bag onto the nearest bench. Tony looked up from his work, greeting him with a wave and a grin that faltered at the sight of the sullen kid.

Unlike Peter, Tony was in a great mood. Not for any particular reason, other than the surprise he had planned out for the kid. Peter was beside himself after finding out about the Nanite suit, so he figured it’d be appropriate to start working on one for the kid. He hadn’t gotten too far yet, all he’d done was fabricate a scale design, but he couldn’t wait to see his protegee’s reaction when he told him he wanted them to work on it together. It wasn’t a lie to say that was basically all he’d been thinking about for the last few days.

He wasn’t expecting for the usually bubbly teen to walk in looking like someone pissed in his cereal. So he said exactly that.

“Hey, Pete. Who pissed in your cereal?”

The kid rolled his eyes and sat at his designated work station, getting out his homework without so much as a word to the older man. Tony stared dumbfounded at the back of the kid who seemed to be… ignoring him? It had him worried, if he was being honest, but he probably shouldn’t voice that just yet.

“I have a special project for us today, bud, but make sure you get your homework done first.” Tony said, watching Peter carefully. 

Peter supposed he should be excited at the prospect of a ‘special project’, but between his headache and general bad mood, his mentor’s words just dredged up a renewed sense of agitation.

“I know.” He deadpanned, glaring at the equations in front of him. This was easy. So why was he so pissed? Maybe it was because he could feel Tony’s eyes boring a hole into the back of his head.

“How much do you have left?” His mentor called over. Peter just shrugged.

“Well, try and make it quick, I really want to get started, and Aunt Hottie always calls me To ream me out when you don’t have everything done.”

“ I. Know.” Peter replied, definitely shorter than he should have. Why did he do that? He could practically hear Tony’s neck crack as he whipped his head around.

“Don’t get all pissy with me, kid.” He shot back. Peter could hear the warning in his voice, but some part of him told him not to back down.

“ Geez, I’m not,” He snapped, “chill.” Oop. definitely shouldn’t have said that. Tony’s stool scraped unbearably on the floor, and the man came to lean on the table right behind him.

“Kid.” The man said, his voice dripping with annoyance, “turn around.” Peter did so, wanting desperately to shrink under the man’s intense gaze, but instead glaring right back.

“Whatever the hell is up with your attitude, you better drop it right now. I can live with you being a little shit from time to time, but straight up disrespecting me is not on the table. Capiche?” Peter winced at his words, now that he was closer it seemed a lot louder. 

“Yes sir.” he grumbled, turning back around to his work. A hand on his shoulder made him jump.

“Are you okay, kid? This really isn’t, well, like you.” Tony asked softly. For a moment, Peter considered telling him about the bad patrol, and the day full of sensory overload, and Flash’s tormenting. But that would mean admitting that he didn’t have it under control, and if he did that, well, he would probably lose the suit. When he didn’t answer, Tony withdrew his hand with a sigh, before crossing the room back to his own workspace.

“Fine. If you don’t want to talk, I’m not gonna waste my time trying to force you to.” He called back. Peter stayed silent, trying to force himself not to tear up. He knew he pissed Mr. Stark off. Probably ruined the whole lab day. Tony was as pissed off as he was and not gonna lie, it hurt. 

He was just about to turn around and say something, anything, when FRIDAY’S voice came through the ceiling speakers.

“Incoming call from Ms. Potts, Boss.” The AI said, eliciting another flinch from Peter.

“Fantastic. Just what I need. Patch it through to my cell.” Tony grumbled, standing up and walking out into the hallway.

Peter didn’t mean to listen in. He really didn’t. But with his current hypersensitivity to sound, and nothing else to distract him, he couldn’t really help it. 

“-I can’t keep doing this, Pep! I can’t stand being around him.”

Tony was silent for a second, no doubt listening to his fiance’s response.

“Yeah, I know I said I’d help out with all this but there’s no point! I mean-”

Another pause.

“Well, duh he needs me! He isn’t going anywhere without me, that’s for sure.”

Peter felt nauseous.

“ It’s all in one ear and out the other. Spider-Man this and Spider-Man that.”

He was sure he’d be sick. Or something.

“It’s a waste of time. He’s just a stupid kid!”

Peter clenched his fists and sniffled, trying to get his chin to stop quivering through sheer force of will alone.

“The sooner I’m rid of all this the better. You know the Accords-”

FRIDAY suddenly cut into the conversation.

“Boss, Peter seems to be in distress.”

“Aw, shit, Pep, I gotta go. Yeah, I love you too. Tell Ross to kiss my ass for me, huh?”

Peter hadn’t even noticed that he had snapped his pen in half, splattering ink across his hand, homework, and the bench. He didn’t even realize he was crying, hot, heavy tears trailing down his cheeks until he stood and faced the door Tony walked out of, and saw how his brows creased in concern when he saw him. 

“Kid, what’s wrong, FRIDAY said-”

“I don’t need you,” Peter snarled, meeting the man’s gaze with enough ferocity that he stepped back, “I, I don’t, and, and, and I wish I’d never met you!”

His nails cut into his palms, and he dragged his fists across his eyes, desperate to rid his face of his display of weakness. Tony looked shocked, eyes wide and mouth moving, looking for words that didn’t come. Peter grabbed his ruined homework and shoved it into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and turning back around. 

“Kid, I-” His mentor said, stepping forward but Peter shook his head.

“Sorry for wasting your time.” He rasped, dashing past Tony before the man could say another word. 

And just like that, Tony was left standing in his workshop, wondering how the hell he’d managed to ruin things already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It only gets worse from here.... not gonna lie  
> No art today, if I get the chance I’ll do it Friday :)  
> Lemme know what you think!


	4. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #4, when he thinks he’s lost him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check tags for TW

Tony stumbled into his workshop, peeling off his bloody shirt and throwing it to the side. It made a sickeningly wet smack as it hit the ground. He was still covered in the stuff, but that was an issue for later, for now he would just make do with a tank top he should’ve washed days ago.

“Boss, Miss Potts is requesting entry.” FRIDAY said. 

“Denied.” Tony replied, making a beeline for his liquor cabinet. It was mostly empty, all that was left was a near-dry bottle of Jack Daniel’s. He shouldn’t be surprised, he had been drinking a lot less with Peter around- oh, god, Peter.

“Boss, Colonel Rhodes is requesting entry.” FRIDAY spoke again, now with more urgency in her artificial voice.

“Denied.” He rasped, pulling the bottle out and pouring it into a glass with shaky hands. Barely a shot. Hardly enough to even feel anything. Certainly not enough to make him black out and stop thinking about, about-

“Sir, it appears that you are on the brink of a panic attack, I would recommend you not be alone in such a state.” 

“Can it, FRIDAY!” He shouted, ignoring the shake that had made it’s way into his voice as well, “Activate black-out protocol.”

“I believe that would be unwise, boss, I can not-”

“Fine! I’ll do it myself.” He growled, swiping his hand across a holographic display, scrolling until he found the page he needed. One tap and the AI’s warnings cut out, the doors sealed, the windows darkened, and Tony was left completely alone with his thoughts.

Why was he in here again?

Oh yeah. A distraction. He was a mechanic, an engineer. He created things, destroyed things, fixed things.

He couldn’t fix this.

Damn it, no. He could control his emotions. He didn’t have to think about it.

Tony tried to raise the glass to his lips, but it slipped out of his sweaty, shaking hands. It didn’t break, but the measly remains of the alcohol splattered across the floor.

“SHIT!” He yelled, kicking it into the wall. This time it did shatter, tiny shards of glass tinkling onto the floor besides a table. Peter’s table. The one he was at last week, before… before.

It had been seven days since Peter ran out of the Tower and May stopped responding to his calls. 

Two days since May called him in hysterics, demanding to know if Peter was with him.

A day since he mobilized the Avengers, investigating every lead that popped up.

Six hours since Tony sat in the shadow of a shipping container, cradling the ravaged Spider-suit like a precious gem, desperately trying to block out the sensation of the blood soaking into his clothes.

Two hours since Cho confirmed that the blood was Peter’s.

Twenty minutes since the kidnappers sent him videos of Peter’s corpse.

And now, he was losing it.

He felt the blackhole of grief beginning to open up in the pit of his stomach, his eyes grew hot with unwanted tears. He couldn’t give in. Stark men were made of iron. And if he gave in, that would mean it was real. That Peter was actually dead.

That he wouldn’t come skipping into the workshop, already babbling on about some random topic.

He wouldn’t swing through the streets of Queens, stopping bike thieves and helping little old ladies.

He wouldn’t call Tony up in the middle of the night to tell him about an idea he had to tweak his web formula, or just to send him some stupid meme.

He wouldn’t look at Tony like the man put the stars in the sky when he explained a new concept or procedure to him.

And if he could just have the kid back he’d pull the damn stars out of the sky and give them to him if the kid so much as mentioned wanting them. But he couldn’t.

Peter was dead.

So Tony screamed. He screamed, and raged, and knocked papers off of tables and kicked stools until his legs hurt, and tried to ignore how blurry and wet his vision was getting with each second that he destroyed the place.

He swiped his hands violently across a display table, and he must have hit something, because the panel hiding the Iron-Spider suit opened with a hiss behind him. Turning and seeing it, standing there behind it’s glass case, proud and strong as if waiting for it’s owner to finally use it, broke Tony.

F ighting the tears was fruitless, because with each blink he saw those videos, flashing through his mind like the worst movie. With each one came another thought, just as horrid as the images.

_ Why didn’t you stop him last week? _

__ _ You should have paid more attention after that guy targeted Spider-Man. _

__ _ Maybe if you finished the suit faster you could’ve saved him. _

_ It’s so damn selfish of you to be thinking about what you’re losing, when he lost everything. _

__ _ He’s dead because of you. _

A sob wrenched through him, and he stumbled forward, bracing himself on the glass. Through the tears he saw his reflection, as weak and pathetic as a man who killed a kid could be. He didn’t deserve to miss Peter, he didn’t deserve to cry. May Parker did, so did Ned Leeds, and that girl he always talked about, MJ, and the owner of that sandwich shop, Delmar, so did he. All these people, who loved Peter, and were in turn loved by him, deserved that grief. The last time he saw the kid, he left sobbing. That’s on him.

Tony cried out, a new wave of tears wracking his body. Vaguely, he heard someone yelling outside the door, but when he looked up, all he could see was his reflection in the glass. Red hot anger sliced through his sobs, and he drew back his fist, weakly punching at the glass. And then he did it again. And again.

He couldn't even see through the tears streaming down his face and onto his shirt, mingling with Peter’s blood already seeping through the fabric. He was just punching, choking on snot and tears and ignoring the pain that shot up his arms with each blow. The skin on his knuckles broke, and still he continued. the pain was nothing like what Peter had to experience, his blood trailing down the glass nowhere near the amount Peter had to spill.

Finally, something in his left hand gave, the crack sending a bolt of pain through his body. Tony sank to the floor, cradling his broken hand in his lap, resting his head against the bloody panel. That’s how they found him, When Rhodey blasted through the doors, and Pepper ran to him, pulling him away from the wall and into her. 

She held him as he cried. Rhodey did, too, after re-enabling FRIDAY. He joined them on the floor, embracing the pair and glancing at Pepper with eyes as red-rimmed as hers. 

“I-It’s m-my fault, Pep.” he choked out, clinging to her with his good hand.

“No, no it’s not,” She shushed him, pressing a kiss to his hair, “But, but we’re gonna find who’s fault it is.”

“You, you aren’t, you d-don’t know-” He began, before Rhodey cut him off.

“Tones. Peter would not want you to blame yourself for this.” 

Tony was about to demand how he could ever speak for Peter when Steve came skidding around the corner. Tony pushed away from Pepper, wiping his eyes with his good hand and hiding the other behind his back.

“Tony, you need to see this,” Steve gasped out, somehow breathless.

“Rogers, I’m not-” He growled wetly, grief slowly being replaced by anger.

“No. Tony,” The super-soldier interjected, eyes desperate, “You need to get out here,”

“Peter’s alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao y’all I wrote a whole note about how this was probably crap bc I wrote it at 3am and definitely cried about it but I just actually read through it and not gonna lie.... it ain’t too terrible :|  
> That said, I still haven’t written something like this before and if you notice something that could be improved, do let me know.  
> Check out my insta, @murdock_schmurdock because I’ll be posting the art there tonight!  
> I love u guys!!!


	5. Rest and Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #5 when one of them is just a little bit out of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, and we’re back to the fluff ;)

Tony scrubbed his fists over his eyes, forcing the blurring back to the corners of his vision. It had only been four hours since he got his kid back, and he refused to leave his side. Even if the kid was currently passed out on super pain killers, and would likely be comatose for the next couple days. His healing factor was extraordinary, yeah, but even with his abilities his body needed time to recover from his ordeal. And what an ordeal it was.

Broken ribs, multiple lacerations, most likely a concussion, Hypothermia, and a near-fatal amount of propofol. And those were only the life-threatening injuries. 

Peter groaned, his face scrunching in pain even as he slept. Tony grabbed his hand and squeezed it, his other hand going up to card through the teen’s tangled hair.

“Shh, kid, it’s okay, you’re safe, ju-just calm down bud.” He hushed, the flood of guilt rushing painfully through him as Peter stilled. It was his fault they were in this situation. Sure, literally everyone he’s talked to since it happened has made it incredibly clear that it isn’t, but they also can’t see it from his perspective.

He was pulled from his spiral of self-hatred by the soft whoosh of the medbay doors. Tony pulled his hand from Peter’s and stood up as the kid’s Aunt speed-walked into the room.

“May, I-” He started, but the woman shot him a _shut-up-now_ look before he could say anything else. She sat at the head of Peter’s bed opposite the billionaire, immediately lacing her slender fingers in her nephew’s, careful to avoid the bandages covering his IV. It seemed like hours the two sat in silence before she looked up and met Tony’s eyes.

“I’m not mad at you,” May sighed, ignoring the surprise evident in the man’s expression, “I mean, I was, when he came home so upset that he broke his door in half slamming it, but, well, things were a bit different then.”

“What do, what do you mean?” 

“You know I was never your biggest fan. I think I made that abundantly clear.” She said. Tony smirked back, he could practically still feel the redness on his cheek from her palm when the woman found out he basically kidnapped her child to take to Germany.

“That’s an understatement.” He quipped. May rolled her eyes.

“But you really fell into my shitlist after whatever happened. Peter couldn’t even really tell me about it, but i think I got the gist of it,” May murmured, turning her attention to the boy beside her, “But seeing you jump into action when I called, and spending days doing nothing but search for him? I don’t think you would do that if you hated him.” 

“H-hate him? May, what the hell are you talking about?” Tony sputtered, tightening his grip on the arm of his chair, “How did he, What did I do to make him think that?” May smiled sadly back at him.

“I think that's a conversation the two of you need to have.” Tony opened his mouth to respond, but May cut him off.

“You know about Richard, and, and Ben, right?” She took his silence as a yes, “Then you know how hard their losses were on him.” Tony took a second to ponder this, May could practically see the gears stop turning as her words registered in his brain. His head shot up, and he met her eyes briefly before quickly averting them as if he couldn’t handle the weight of what she implied. But May could see the pleading, the want, the _need_ , for it to be true that he hid behind his infamous Stark facade.

“I don’t think he could stand to lose another father.”

“May, what are you saying? I’m not, he doesn’t-”

“Yes, he does. Don’t even try to deny that. If you don’t then whatever, fine, but you need to fix this. Whatever it is that happened. For him.” She finished, leaning back in her seat and watching the billionaire before her. For a man with such a huge presence and personality, he sure seemed small hunched over by the bedside of her nephew. He didn’t respond, but she saw the quick nod of his head, and the spark of determination in his eyes.

They settled into their quiet vigil, and May pretended not to notice when Tony’s hand moved to _oh so gently_ cover Peter’s.

* * *

Quiet beeping pulled Tony out of his dreams, and he sat up groaning from his chair. Sharp pain ricocheted up his spine and down his legs, and he briefly considered  calling Cho to see if he could get some painkillers himself. Honestly, he should probably listen to May and Pepper and sleep in a real bed, or at least on the couch in the Medbay lobby, but he was bound and determined to be there when Peter woke up. 

Which seemed to be right now.

Peter was alternating between pinching either side of the oxygen cannula running under his nose. Judging by the intermittent giggling, he found it incredibly entertaining.

“You up, kid?” He asked tentatively, hoping the kid wouldn’t be too mad at him. He was too tired for that right now.

Peter tilted his head towards the ceiling, then to the floor, and sat in silence, lips pursed and brows furrowed in deep thought.

“Nooo… am down.” He finally said, nodding like he had just made the perfect closing argument. Tony laughed under his breath, scooting his chair closer to the boy.

“Absolutely blasted is what you are.” At Peter’s look of confusion, he elaborated.

“Stoned. Off of it. Zooted. Hammered. High.” 

“B-but I’m nah… I’m nah twenny-one,” Peter stammered, “I don do drugs.”

“Too bad, Pete, you’re on a lot right now.” He chuckled, but the teen’s sniffling quickly stopped him.

“Hey, hey, no need to cry, bud, what’s wrong? Does something hurt?” Tony fretted. Peter shook his head, and looked at Tony with watery eyes.

“I don do drugs. They’re ‘wegal.” He sniffed.

“Yeah Underoos, you’re right.” Tony hadn’t seen the kid this out of it in ages. Peter probably didn’t even recognize him. He may be talking, but his eyes fluttered open and shut, pupils dilated and focus never settling on any one thing. Come to think of it, the kid talked so much it might just be an involuntary response at this point.

“Eh-eh-eh, hey, no, get out of that, Spider-baby.” He chided, pulling Peter’s hands away from where he had attempted to pull at the central line running into his chest. The second he dropped them, the teen’s hands wandered up to poke at one of the multitude of bruises blooming on his body. Tony grabbed him again. And again, he let him go and Peter immediately tried to tear the large bandage over his midsection. Tony settled for just holding both his hands. To prevent further damage.

The kid seemed unbothered by his sudden immobility, and lazily rolled his head over to face his mentor.

“Wha happen?” He slurred. Tony didn’t honestly know where to start. Instead he cleared his throat and adjusted the pillows behind Peter. 

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” he muttered, before clearing his throat again and continuing, “Well Pete, you somehow managed to get under mine and FRIDAY’S radar for half a week, get kidnapped, scare me half to death, and then miraculously turn up actually half dead.” None of this seemed to register with the doped-up superhero, who stuck his tongue out thoughtfully, so Tony sighed and tried again.

“You got hurt. Real bad.” He settled on. Peter nodded sagely, retracting his tongue and smacking his lips.

“Ah. Where’m I?” 

“The Tower Medbay, kid. Where else?” Tony replied with a laugh. 

“So… M’ssr Stark got me?” Peter asked, looking even more confused than before.

“Yeah. Yeah kid, he did.” The older man smiled, giving the teen’s hands a squeeze. To his surprise, Peter’s reaction wasn’t relief or gratefulness, but to immediately try to fumble out of the bed.

“Whoah, whoa, slow your roll, Pete.” Tony yelped, as he helped Peter climb rather ungracefully back into bed.

“I-I can’t be here, M’ssr Stark, M’ssr Stark, don wanna-” He babbled, confusion turning to some sort of panicked sadness that made Tony’s heart clench. May was right, he needed to fix this. Not now though, at least not while the kid was on more drugs than a hooker behind a Denny’s in Vegas. 

“Why can’t you be here?” He whispered, scooting closer so he was leaning over the guard rail of the bed. He held Peter’s hands in his, and was relieved to feel the teen squeeze back.

“Cu-’cuz I’m j-just a burden, an he, he has bedder thins to do then deal with me.” He sniffled, unable to stop the tears pooling in his eyes from rolling down his flushed cheeks. Tony sat frozen, his own eyes burning with unshed tears as he took in what his kid was saying. 

“Do uh, do you really think that, kid?” He breathed. Peter gave a shaky nod and he felt his breath catch in his chest. 

“Well, what do you think about… about Mr. Stark?” The teen gulped and rubbed his face, clearing it of his tears as he spoke.

“He, uh, M’ssr Stark, he’s the best…. Can you keep a secret?” Peter went on before Tony could even respond, “ I don have a dad, ‘cuz they’re all dead, which really sucks but, uh, sometime’? M’ssr Stark acts a lil like one. I know, I know! It’s ‘barassing, but like, I don mind. I pretend a lil too, y’know?” Tony couldn’t help but stare at the kid as he stage whispered his ‘secret’ to him. He could feel his throat constricting near painfully around the lump forming in it, and he couldn’t ignore the warmth growing in his stomach. Being anything beyond a mentor was a foreign concept to him, he really couldn’t see how any of his actions had brought Peter to this conclusion. 

“You like that Mr. Stark… acts like your dad?” He whispered back.

“Yeah! It’s nice,” Peter exclaimed, “He texts me nice stuff, n’ looks out for me, n’ keeps me safe, n’ makes sure I eat n’ all that. I even gotta hug one time!” 

Huh. Maybe there was a reason Pepper and Rhodey constantly teased him for being a helicopter parent.

All of a sudden, Peter’s massive grin faded and he slumped back into his cushions. His mentor leaned forward, squeezing his hands as he tried to figure out what was up.

“But now he hates me.” He cried, chin quivering as fresh tears began to spill down his face. 

“What? No, how could you think that?” Tony pled, trying and failing to catch his kid’s teary brown eyes.

“I-I heard him s-say it, an-an then I yelled at him, an I ‘gnored him, an, an, an then i got hurt an he had to help me and waste time and now he _hates_ me!” Peter sobbed, dropping his chin to his chest as his shoulders heaved with each choppy inhale.

“When did he say that?” Tony asked shakily, trying to ignore how every whimper from his kid was like another knife carving into his heart. A beep sounded as a machine began dripping more medicine into Peter’s IV.

“I wasn’t ‘sposed to,” the teen whined, grimacing at the pain, “I got suber, super hearin’.” He still couldn’t think of any time that he had ever said those things, let alone while Peter was present and within earshot. Hell, the only time he’d been apart from the kid while he was over was that time he had to take that call from Pepper. _Oh_.

He needed to find out what parts of that phone call his kid heard. But right now, he had to get him calmed down.

“Kid, Mr. Stark doesn’t hate you.” He said, firm but gentle. Peter stilled just enough for him to lift a hand and brush a tear away from the kid’s cheek. His heart broke just a little when Peter leaned into the touch with a sigh.

“How’d you know?” He whimpered. Tony leaned into his line of vision, using the hand already supporting his head to make Peter face him.

“Probably because I am him.” He murmured, watching as the teen’s drowsy eyes struggled to focus before locking onto his. 

“M’ssr Stark?” Peter mumbled, voice unbelievably small. The hand not holding Tony’s came up to clasp gently around the one cradling his cheek.

“Yeah Peter, it’s me.” Tony knew he was on the verge of crying himself, but he forced the tears down with a few rapid blinks.

“Oh,” He said, very eloquently, “ Not mad?”

“Of course not. How could I be mad?” The billionaire responded, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat.

“Was jus’ checkin’,” Peter yawned, settling further into the bed and the hand cradling his cheek,” I think, I think I’m gonna sleep. G’night M’ssr Stark.” Tony smiled at the boy in bed before him, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Goodnight, Pete. Get better soon, will ya?”

“I will. Love you.” Peter said. 

Tony froze, staring at the wall as the warmth in his chest grew with the smile on his face. That, that was a big word. maybe not for Peter, who was the kind of person to tell anyone who smiled at him that he loved them. But for Tony Stark, quite possibly the most well known emotionally constipated person on the planet, it was very big. And very scary. 

But for whatever reason, damn it all, the thought of loving this kid, and being loved by him didn’t seem so scary at all. Still big, yeah, but manageable. Good, even. Maybe being some kind of, dad, father-figure thing wouldn’t be too horrible.

“I love you too, Peter.” Tony whispered, brushing his hand through Peter’s mop of brown curls. He was sure the kid was asleep when he said it, but as he crossed his arms on the edge of the mattress and laid his head down, he could see the faintest of smiles curling at the edge of Peter’s mouth.

And so they slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FORGOT TONYS HAND IS SUPPOSED TO BE BROKEN LMAO PLEASE IGNORE THAT  
> Whooo boy I did not think I was gonna finish this in time. I’m literally about to leave for work, so yeah.  
> Anyways, art for the last chapter is up on my Instagram, @murdock_schmurdock  
> I hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading and let me know what you thought! :D


	6. Patching it up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #6 when they finally have to talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep your orthodontist on hand bc it’s about to get sickeningly sweet 😳

It was Peter’s last day in the Tower Medbay. Finally. 

He was positively itching to get out of there, it had been far too long since he’d been able to go out patrolling, and he was literally crawling up the walls. Much to the chagrin of the night nurses, who have all had to sign NDAs since the unfortunate incident.

The last week and a half he had spent recovering and trying to pry the story of what happened out of anyone who would listen. He only really got anything out of May, but she had gone back to the apartment two days ago. The gist of it was some of The Vulture’s ex-employees got all pissy, kidnapped him and beat him silly before pumping him full of sedative chemicals. Somehow, Mr. Stark got wind of it despite Peter’s foolproof avoidance techniques, and assembled the Avengers to go and get him. 

May had also alluded to the fact that the man apparently did not hate him, and they had at some point, made up. Peter wasn’t convinced. He remembered small snippets of his drugged-up conversation, nothing really solid. But he’s pretty sure he spilled that whole ‘kinda pretending Mr. Stark is his dad’ thing. Which just makes the entire situation that much more awkward.

Speaking of his mentor, the man had been acting super weird. Like, weirder than usual. At first, when he would wake up just barely clinging to lucidity, sometimes he’d just be sitting there, watching him. Later on, when Peter was able to stay awake for longer and longer periods of time, Mr. Stark would flit in and out randomly, checking his stats and maybe saying a few words to whoever else may be in the room, but he rarely ever acknowledged the boy. Still, Peter would hear him slide quietly into the chair next to him in the dead of night, when his mentor thought he was asleep.

It was kinda weird, and Peter wanted to ask him why he was doing this, but he knew Tony would stop showing up if he knew he was awake. And he hated to admit it, but the man’s sporadic presence was as comforting as it was before their falling out. Listening to his heartbeat and breathing lulled him back to sleep more often than not.

However the constant tip-toeing was starting to grate on his nerves. That and it was making him anxious as hell. Eventually they were going to have to talk about what happened that day, and as hurt as Peter was after what Mr. Stark said, he was in the wrong too. I mean, he was being a total ass all day! And then he told his actual idol he didn’t need him? Ugh!

He wasn’t even sure why he was so nervous about talking to Mr. Stark. What did he have to be scared of? Except maybe finding out that the man was completely innocent and Peter was just overreacting and being a massive pisshead. And then Mr. Stark would take away the suit and not want to see him anymore. 

Or that Mr. Stark had meant everything and he was tired of dealing with some bratty teenager. And then he would take away the suit and not want to see him anymore. Just the thought sent shivers down his spine.

Sure, it was odd that Tony Stark would sit at the bedside of a teenager he didn’t want around anymore for endless hours, and spend a terrifying amount of money on his care and keeping him safe. But he felt like he had some sort of responsibility to him, right? Peter’s superheroing is on his conscience and all. 

Maybe he wouldn’t take away the suit, but he would simply, drop him. Stop the lab days, the training, avoid him at all costs unless it was dropping off the suit to get it repaired. Even then the billionaire could just send someone to pick it up. Somehow that hurt worse. Probably because it meant that Peter Parker didn’t matter in the long run after all.

Shaking away that train of thought, Peter sighed and continued packing up the various books his aunt had brought him into his suitcase. Happy would be there within the hour to pick him up, and he knew how much Happy valued punctuality. With any luck, he’d be able to avoid any kind of interaction with his mentor for another week or so, at least long enough to tie up some loose ends if he were to lose the suit.

Then again, all he had was Parker Luck. Just as he finished shoving his change of clothes in with the books, his phone buzzed. Swiping it up off the table, Peter took one look at the text and groaned. 

* * *

Some Guy: Hey kid, we need to have a conversation. Come down to my office when you’re done packing.

* * *

Great. 

Well, he could just… keep packing until Happy arrived. No, Tony could easily ask FRIDAY if he was done yet. And he’d get bored. Swing out a window? No, he didn’t have his suit yet. Just another thing to worry about. Hide in the garage waiting for Happy and then tell Mr. Stark that he didn’t feel good? Now he was onto something.

Peter shoved his phone into his back pocket and slammed his overstuffed suitcase shut. He crept out into the Medbay hall, staying alert despite his silent Spidey-sense and lack of activity. All the nurses and doctors had left this wing, and he had no reason not to be there.

He reached the elevator and hopped in, just glad to be out of the sterile environment. 

“I’m glad to see you up and about, Peter.” FRIDAY’S voice filled the small space. Peter grinned at the ceiling.

“Thanks FRIDAY! Could you take me down to the garage?” He chirped. There was a pause, as if the AI was considering his request.

“Are you sure? Mr. Hogan will not be arriving for an estimated forty-five minutes.” She responded. 

“Yep! I was just gonna wait for him.”

“Of course.” The elevator began to descend without another word from the AI, and Peter settled in for the ride. 

The Medbay was just above the Executive level of the business side of Stark Tower, and right below the personal levels, putting it pretty close to the top of the structure. Tony’s private garage, on the other hand, was actually a subterranean floor, and the ride down could take up to five minutes, depending on how many other stops there were. Unless you were on a private elevator, like Peter was. That could take it down to about three minutes.

Which did not explain why the elevator was rolling smoothly to a stop after thirty seconds.

“FRIDAY? Why are we stopping?” Peter asked, sending nervous glances to the closed doors.

“Boss asked me to bring you to his office, as he requested to speak with you earlier. You are not to leave the premises until then.” She replied, sounding indifferent to his suffering.

“What, come on! Anything else?” Peter groaned, his stomach dropping along with his chances of getting out of this.

“I believe this is part of his Fly in the Web protocol.” FRIDAY said, this time a tad bit smug. The doors opened with a ding, and Peter was faced with a rather grand hallway lined by doors of varying sizes. At the end was an imposing set of oak doors, accompanied by a gold plaque reading “ _Dr. Anthony E Stark_ ”. _Since when did Mr. Stark have a PHD?_

Head hung low, Peter gripped his suitcase and stepped out, trudging across the tile. He paused at the entryway, weighing his options, which all ended in him getting chewed out. Maybe Mr. Stark wouldn’t be there? He gave a hesitant knock, and was greeted by a muffled “come in!” from the other side. Unfortunately for him, Mr. Stark was definitely in.

The doors opened and Peter shuffled in, staring pointedly at the floor as they closed behind him. It was carpeted, surprisingly, with a faint abstract pattern you could only see if you squinted. Which he was doing a lot of.

Tony Stark himself sat at a massive wooden desk in front of an equally gargantuan window overlooking the New York skyline. Shelving and cabinets framed one side of the room, books, folders, and stacks of paper haphazardly strewn over most of the available surfaces. The other side featured a much more organized bookshelf, shouldered by a well-worn couch and a large screen. 

Diagrams and charts popped onto the screen, disappearing as fast as they were replaced. Peter caught a few images of Spider-Man and The Vulture among other vaguely familiar faces before Mr. Stark was spinning around in his chair and setting the panel to a screensaver with a wave of his hand.

“There he is!” The man exclaimed with a forced sense of cheer,”what took you so long?” Peter shrugged, fiddling with the lock on his suitcase as his mentor walked around to lean back on his desk.

“I, uh, don’t feel good.” He managed. 

“Well, FRIDAY here says your vitals are completely normal, which I must say I’m not too surprised about considering you were just released from Medbay.” Tony drawled, a hint of annoyance creeping into his tone as he clearly saw through Peter’s lie.

Peter refrained from making a snide comment about always being monitored, choosing instead to bite his lip and fidget even more with the suitcase handle. Once he realized he wasn’t going to get an answer from the boy, Tony sighed, dropping his confident facade and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Look, Kid, we need to talk. I know you don’t want to but, I just,” He sighed again and stood up from the desk, taking a step towards Peter and gesturing to his right, “let’s just sit on the couch. It’s a couch kind of conversation, you know?” Tony walked to the couch and flopped down on one end. After a moment Peter shuffled over, sitting tensely on the opposite end. It wasn’t a very big couch, so he was only a foot or two away, but he thought he could see hurt flash across his mentor’s face before he schooled it back into a neutral expression.

They sat in painful silence, Peter couldn’t tell if the man was waiting for him to speak first, or just letting him stew before he laid the bad news on him.

“What happened, Pete?” Tony finally said, looking over in an attempt to catch Peter’s eye. Maybe if he just didn’t respond, Mr. Stark would get frustrated enough to just let him leave.

“I mean, I got at least a little bit of the story from May, but nothing specific, and you mentioned overhearing something when you were doped as hell, but I don’t know what you actually heard, if anything. And I feel like there’s something else too,” He continued, turning his body and bending to match Peter’s hunched posture, “I need to know, so I can fix this.”

The raw sincerity in his voice almost made the teen break, but he blinked back the tears threatening to make an appearance, and glared resolutely at the cracked leather case in his lap. Tony sat back up with a sigh, and Peter thought _this is it, he’s finally going to tell me he’s done, he’s going to get up and call someone to come get me and-_

But the billionaire didn’t stand up, he just sank back into the couch and ran a calloused hand through his greying hair.

“Alright, if you don’t wanna talk, that’s fine,” Tony said, “I really didn’t want to do this, you really aren’t even supposed to know the half of it.” 

This was it, He’s gonna say it and I’m gonna lose the suit and-

“FRI, be a dear and play back my 5:30 call with Pepper from last week.”

“Sir, all calls related to and pertaining to the Accords are on private lines, legally I can not do that.” 

“Ugh. Fine. Override code 459-TS-769.”

“Override Accepted.”

Peter peeked over at the other end of the couch, where Mr. Stark sat with his eyes closed, massaging the bridge of his nose. What was this?

_ “Hey Miss Potts, how can I help you today?” _ Tony’s voice came over the speakers.

_ “You know exactly why I called.” _ Pepper sounded tired.

_ “I’m kind of busy right now, can’t he wait?” _

__ _ “No, Tony, you’re gonna have to put your playdate on hold for now.” _

__ _ “Are you shi...I can’t keep doing this, Pep! I can’t stand being around him!” _

Peter flinched as he recalled the first time he heard those words. This time, though, he wasn’t listening in on a one-sided argument.

_ “I know, I know, even I can recognize that he’s the worst, Tony, but you said you would be a part of this process.” _

__ _ “Yeah, I know I said I’d help out with all this but there’s no point! I mean-” _

__ _ “There is a point, dear, and that point is keeping yourself and everyone else out of jail. Ross is incompetent, he needs you to navigate the superheroing part of it.” _

__ _ “Well, duh he needs me! He isn’t going anywhere without me for sure.” _

Peter looked up, slightly releasing his grip on the handle of his suitcase. Hope was starting to flutter in his chest.

_ “Maybe he would be if you weren’t such a handful all the time. I think Ross would actually listen if you just pretended to like him.” _

__ _ “It’s all in one ear and out the other. Spider-Man this and Spider-Man that.” _

__ _ “Ross will drop it, especially if you give him other stuff to think about. Tony, you’ve done a great job of keeping Peter away from him so far.” _

“Alright, FRIDAY, that’s enough.” His mentor said, ending the recording and startling Peter.

“I’m sorry, Pete, I didn’t want you anywhere near Ross or the Accords bullshit, but he’s been dead-set on getting you for some reason. I’ve been keeping him away as best as I can, but unless I tell the Accords Council you were a minor, he can keep pursuing you. But that brings up a whole list of other issues, and it’s just been a real shitshow,” Tony rambled, tapping the empty space on his chest anxiously, “but I hope that clears up anything you might’ve heard.”

Peter looked straight ahead, trying to ignore how his vision was blurring, and how he was clenching his jaw so tight it popped. This whole time, Mr. Stark was protecting him, and he showed his gratitude by bitching and telling him he didn’t need him. His mentor did so much for him, between giving him the suit, and his no doubt priceless time, and Peter couldn’t even text him back after insulting him. And now he was going out of his way to try and fix things?

He didn’t deserve that.

“Pete? You alright?” Tony’s panicked voice cut through his thoughts, and he snapped his head up to meet his mentor’s worried eyes.

“Uh,uhm, what was that about you calling someone a, uh, stupid kid?” Peter asked, swallowing thickly. Tony gave a light chuckle and met his eyes. 

“Yeah, that was actually about you,” He said, grinning softly, “Because you are, and I want you to stay that way as long as you can. And if that means keeping the Secretary of State off your Spider-butt, then I’m gonna do it. By any means necessary.” 

The tears returned in full force, a few managing to slip through and trail down his face. Now Peter really felt like a dick.

“Whoah, hey, bud, what’s, what’s wrong?” Tony fretted. Peter shook his head, letting his suitcase fall to the floor.

“N-Nothing, Mr. Stark, I-I just, I just, I-m s-so sorry-” He choked out, wrapping his arms around himself. 

“Kid, come here.” Tony interjected, holding out his arms. He was not prepared for all 5’6 of superpowered teenager to slam into him. Peter curled against him, fisting his hands into his mentor’s jacket and sobbing into his chest.

“M-Mr. Stark I’m s-sorry, this lady was just s-so mean to me, and, and, then I h-had a headache, and F-flash was a-a dick, and I-” He wailed.

“Peter, it’s alright. I’m not mad.” Tony murmured, a little disturbed by how easily this kid, his kid, melted into him. And how right his arms felt wrapped around him.

“H-how? I was so h-horrible.” He replied.

“And I’ve spent a big chunk of my life acting much worse than that.” The billionaire chuckled. Peter looked up from his shirt and met his gaze with wide, red-rimmed eyes.

“You don’t, you don’t want to, y-you still want m-me?” He whispered, sounding so unbelievably small.

“Did you really think I was going to get rid of you?” Tony said, mirthful tone turning to disbelieving when Peter gave a near imperceptible nod against his shirt. Peter felt him exhale, and his mentor’s grip on him tightened just a little.

“Kid, after you… disappeared, they sent us a video, and, uh, we thought you were dead,” Peter heard his heart beat just a bit faster, his breath catching as he continued, “You can ask just about anyone, I, I might have lost my cool a little bit. Well, more than a little bit. We’re pretty damn lucky Capsicle had the presence of mind to have FRIDAY run a sign of life scan.” He paused for a second, clearing his throat.

“After that, I don’t know what i’d do if I lost you. Actually lost you, for good. For some reason, I care a hell of a lot about your scrawny ass.” Peter giggled wetly, which devolved into wet coughing. Tony rubbed circles on his back, wondering when the hell he started being okay with someone ruining a two-hundred dollar shirt.

“Thank you Mr. Stark.” The kid mumbled, burying his face back in his mentor’s shirt.

Tony smiled softly, moving one hand to cradle the back of the teen’s head. It was probably when that someone ended up being Peter Parker.

“Anything for you, squirt,” He murmured, barely audible, “I love you, Pete.” Peter grinned against his shirt, closing his eyes as fresh tears began to spill.

“I love you too Mr. Stark.” He whispered. Tony pulled him tight, resting his chin on the crown of the kid’s head and smiling into his hair. His own eyes were beginning to water, and he briefly wondered what Rhodey would say if he saw him. He, Tony Stark, Iron Man, Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist, cuddling with a crying kid on a couch, heart absolutely melted by just a few words. _I love you._

Because he did, he loved this kind, stupidly brave kid with every fibre of his being. And as scary as it was, if being a dad was anything like this, well, he had no idea why Howard had so fervently avoided it. 

Peter gave a contented sigh and leaned further into his side, drawing his legs up to his chest. He was still tucked into Tony’s chest, but now Peter’s head rested in the crook of his neck, held there by his mentor’s arm wrapped around him.

They sat together on that couch in a comfortable silence, Tony occasionally reaching up to card his hand through Peter’s curly hair, Peter hiccuping or wiping his eyes every so often. After a while, Peter’s shaky breaths evened out, and his sniffling turned to light snores.Tony looked at the sleeping kid, and tried to scoot him over so he could get up. Unfortunately, the hand on his chest did not move, and he realized that Peter’s consciousness had no bearing on his preternatural stickiness. His mentor laughed to himself, of course he would tire himself out enough to fall asleep on him and stick to him.

“What am I supposed to do now, Underoos, you’ve trapped me.” He muttered, giving the teen an accusing poke. Peter didn’t stir, and Tony rolled his eyes fondly. Being stuck on the couch wasn’t the worst way he could spend his afternoon. In fact, he could probably get used to this. Whatever this was. 

Peter groaned, his nose scrunching up at something in his dreams. Tony pressed a chaste kiss to his hair, and with that the kid relaxed back into him. He could use a break as well, now that he thought about it. Not a long nap or anything, Happy would be there to pick up Peter soon and he’d hate for his friend to see him, like this. He would just close his eyes for a moment, let his protege get a few more winks, and that would be it. 

His eyes drifted shut as his head rested on Peter’s, and before he knew it the kid’s slow and steady breathing lulled him to sleep.

* * *

“FRIDAY, take me up to the Medbay floor.”

“Of course, Mr. Smiles.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.” Happy grumbled, pointedly not looking at the ceiling as the elevator closed with a ding. He was supposed to pick up Peter at 1. It was now 2. Tony had texted him that the kid might be a bit late, but this was a little worrying. He knew how much Happy valued punctuality. 

The Forehead of Security tapped his foot impatiently as the elevator made it’s ascent up through Stark Tower. It was a miserable ride on a good day, he didn’t particularly like standing in a small box for five minutes. But when he was already pissed off? It was practically a high-tech hell. 

Eventually it stopped, and Happy forced himself out of the doors before they had even finished opening. With a grunt he brushed himself off and strode off down the west wing in search of Peter.

Who he didn’t find.

Standing in the empty room, the man growled and pulled out his phone.

* * *

Happy: Where the hell is the kid?

Happy: Hello?

Happy: Tony

Happy: His aunt is expecting him back

Happy: I’ve been waiting for an hour

Happy: You can’t just hide away and play house

* * *

Well that was a bust. Usually Stark would reply with some less than savory language after the third text. Which, according to prior experience, meant he was either passed out drunk, passed out on drugs, or deeply engrossed in some new project. It wouldn’t be the first two, he had left all that in the past. Which left a new project, or an insofar unproven hypothesis, Tony was dead. 

Happy desperately hoped it wasn’t the latter.

“FRIDAY, where is the kid?” He asked, already walking back towards the elevator.

“Boss and Mr. Parker are currently in Boss’s office.” She replied.

“Great. Take me.” He said flatly. The AI didn’t respond, but the elevator started downwards, a bit jerkier than usual. Tony once told him to be nice to the AIs, because they could tell when you weren’t, but Happy had mostly brushed it off. He was starting to think he shouldn’t have.

The doors dinged again, and Happy strode out into the hallway, making a beeline for Tony’s office. He reached the large oak doors, and gave a swift knock.

“Tony? You have the kid?” No one answered, so he tried again.

“This is some lame prank you two are playing.” Nothing.

“Seriously, this isn’t funny.” He knocked again,and the door swung open. Alright, now he was actually worried. One hand on his holstered pistol, Happy stepped into the room, scanning one side, and then the-oh. He dropped the hand hovering over his hip to stifle the bark of laughter that threatened to escape his lips.

On Tony’s couch laid the billionaire himself, snoring away with Peter tucked snuggly into his side, also sleeping soundly. He knew about their little spat, mostly because Tony wouldn’t stop whining about it, but from the looks of it they seemed to have made up. And things were all the better for it, if he didn’t have to listen to his boss bitch and moan about his favorite intern hating him.

He slipped his phone back out and snapped a picture of the pair, swiftly sending it to the kid’s aunt.

* * *

Happy: Would you look at that

Happy: img.1

Happy: it’s almost cute

May: aw

May: seems like stark took my advice

May: I take it he’s staying another night?

Happy: I’d hate to wake them

May: alright then. Tell peter I’ll see him tomorrow

Happy: will do

* * *

“Hey FRIDAY, can you let Pepper know where Tony is?” He said, careful not to wake either of the snoozing heroes as he stepped back out into the hall.

“Consider it done, Mr. Smiles.” She said smugly, earning a grumbled response from the man.

“Oh, and tell her I need a raise.” He added.

“You deserve it, Mr. Smiles.”

“Yeah. thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading!! I had a blast writing this and I sure hope you liked it haha.   
> Leave a Kudo or comment if you can spare it! <3  
> Visit my Instagram, @murdock_schmurdock, I’ll be posting the art for this chapter with the chapter announcement!

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy the fluff, it shan’t last... hehehe >:)  
> Thanks for reading! Drop a kudo or a comment? 🥺  
> Also, have some art I did for chapter 1! If it works, at least, lmao.  
> 


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